The Princess Island's
by emilyatthedisco
Summary: Mia and Michael broke up 6 years ago. But now they somehow meet again...and get stuck on an island they've never even heard about before. Will being lost on a deserted island bring them together? Not if Michael's ex can help it!
1. Flying High, Crashing Down

**Disclaimer: I don't know why I have to say that I don't own The Princess Diaries because you probably should know that, but just to clear everything up, I DON'T OWN IT. There you go.**

**Oh, and people may be out of character, but I can't write like Meg Cabot. If I could, you would be paying $7.95 to buy my book at Barnes and Nobles.**

---Mia's POV---

I sighed, and shoved the headphones into my ears. They weren't very good—well, actually, they sucked. They were the little crappy ones they give you on airplanes, which was where I happened to be right now. On a plane, I mean. On our way to ARUBA. I was so excited I turned my music up LOUD. And I think I may or may not have at some point started singing, and not in my head, either. One businessman glared at me, obviously upset that I had interrupted his call to some equally boring and lifeless business partner. A little kid was attempting to stifle a laugh, his eyes wide as cantaloupes. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. My stomach suddenly growled, making an enormous noise. The little brat suddenly burst out in high laughter. He sounded like he was in labor, all "Hee hee hoo, hee hee hoo." which is how they make pregnant women breathe. I think. I saw something like that on Friends, once. I realized that I hadn't eaten since dinner the night before, and was starving. I pulled a chocolate pudding cup out of my carry-on bag. I hadn't eaten pudding in almost six years. It reminded me too much of Michael, the ex-boyfriend; the guy who I thought I loved. We had silly little arguments over what they were called. He said it was pudding, not pudding _cups_.

"You don't EAT the cup, it's just in it!" he would always say.

"But what about ice cream cones? You put the ice cream in a cone, but you still call it an ice cream cone."

"That's different. You eat the cone. But if you put the ice cream in a bowl, which you don't eat, you don't call it an ice cream bowl."

"I do" I would reply stubbornly, and he always smiled at me.

"And that's why I love you."

But now I was ready to forget Michael and his stupid pudding. Although I wasn't doing a very good job of it, seeing as I was listening to his band's—Skinner Box's—CD. Whatever. Their music was decent. I just despised the lead singer. But as the pilot asked for all standing passengers to find a seat, I couldn't help thinking about him. What did he look like? What was life like for him? We broke up six years ago, and I had actually dated guys since him, but none of them added up to Michael. Believe it or not, being the princess of a small country called Genovia does not make it any easier to get dates—well, ones that genuinely like you for you. My headphones were starting to hurt badly. I ripped the devious little black things out of my ears, wincing. Damn, I thought, rubbing my left ear, and leaning against the window.

"Hey" the empty seat next to me said. Wait a second. The chair said wha—oh. I turned from the window and saw a gorgeous guy sitting next to me. Oh my god, he really _was_ good-looking. He had bright green eyes and dark brown hair, and lightly tanned skin. Then I realized I was staring at him just a little. Or a lot. My jaw practically fell on his lap. He smiled.

"Um, hi" I finally said.

"I'm M--" he started to say, but was interrupted by a beautiful stewardess. I turned away and snorted. Why did I ever get my hopes up? This was life for me. Hot guy, meet Mia. But don't worry about her, she's no one special. Now, hot guy; meet an equally attractive woman. Walk away with equally attractive woman, and be sure to make out where Mia can see you.

"Can I get you anything?" the stewardess asked, running a finger up Mr. Hottie's arm, and winking a little. Mr. Hottie looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Um, no, really, I'm good."

The stewardess frowned, and turned to me, her eyes glazing over with boredom. "And you?" I shook my head.

"So, um, I'm Michael" the hottie said, his green eyes focused intently on my face. I froze. It couldn't be. This wasn't him. It was all just a horrible coincidence. I couldn't speak. I opened my mouth though. I couldn't just keep staring at him.

"I'm…Mi—Mia" I finally choked out the words. His mouth opened; a little gasp escaped. But he recovered, and attempted small talk.

"I...I like that name. So what are you listening to?" I had taken the headphones out, but my Walkman was still in my hands. I blushed. I was actually listening to a CD by Skinner Box, Michael's old band. Even though I knew the universe wouldn't be cruel enough to seat me next to my ex-boyfriend, so there was no way of him finding out I still listened to his old songs, I was embarrassed just the same.

"Oh, they're just…you don't know them" I stuttered.

"Maybe I do" He smiled; my heart flipped over. "Let me listen." Silently, I handed him the Walkman.

---Michael's POV---

From the first few chords in the songs, I knew exactly who the band was. And I knew exactly who she was, the beautiful girl sitting next to me. When I first got on the plane, I was pissed off. I had just broken up with my girlfriend—actually she broke up with me. She wasn't the greatest, but it still hurt. I saw my seat, then I saw the girl next to me. She was tall and slim. She had fair skin, and bright green eyes, and was wearing jeans, a long flowery tank top, and a jean jacket. Her hair was blonde with some brown-ish streaks. She was amazing.

After I heard the song, I knew it was Mia, the Mia I fell in love with six years ago.

She was also different from the Mia I used to know; the one I had fallen in love with. That Mia had little self-confidence, and although she was beautiful in my eyes, she was an awkward high schooler. But I could see that she was still the same funny, creative, caring girl. She was hot.

I leaned in towards her. "You were wrong. I know exactly who these guys are." She looked alarmed. "I knew the lead singer. He was so hott wasn't he?" I continued. She laughed, and my heart warmed. "No, he wasn't. I remember how he had an eyelid that drooped, and greasy hair. And--" She leaned in closer. We were almost touching now. "He had a weird habit of chewing his toenails. He was digusting." I started to protest in mock horror.

"How could you! I'll have you know that he was constantly being followed by hordes of adoring fans. And he was just named Hottest Bachelor of the Year." I sputtered. She cocked her head to the sides. God, she was so cute.

"Hottest Bachelor? Wait—he's still a bachelor?" she said. I swallowed.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"And why is that?"

"I'm not sure. He said something about a girl he used to know. How he broke up with her, and regretted it for the rest of his life." She turned away from me. I saw a tear start to form in her eye. Damn it, I had just seen her for the first time in so long, and I brought that up right away. What an idiot I was.

"Look, I know who you are. And I'm guessing you know exactly who I am. And I haven't seen you in six years. _Six years_, Mia. And all I want right now is to talk to you."

"Talk away."

"Mia, I--I never WANTED to break up with you. In fact, it was the last thing I wanted." She stared at me, disbelieving.

"Then why did you let me leave?"

"Well, I thought… I thought you just needed some time to cool off. How was I supposed to know you would jet off to dinky little Genovia after that?"

"Excuse me, but incase you forgot, I'm kinda the princess of that dinky little country, and I had stuff I needed to do. So I wasn't going to wait for you after you broke up with me!"

"I did not break up with you!" At this point, we were getting louder and louder. People were starting to stare. One old woman in the corner was beaming at us, a delirious smile on her wrinkled face.

"Oh yah? Well what does "Mia, I think I need some space" mean to you?"

"Well, if you had let me _explain_ you would have realized that I was just switching COLLEGES so I could have more space in a different city. The campus was too small. I had six roommates in a two-room dorm! I just needed more help, so I was coming to you for advice! But you had to go and assume that I was breaking up with you. You were screaming at me Mia! I didn't know what to do. You were flipping out."

"I was not 'flipping out'. I was upset."

"Oh god Mia, just shut up and kiss me."

---Mia's POV---

No. He did not just ask me to kiss him. In front of everyone. While we were in the middle of screaming at eachother. I just stared at him, breathing heavily. Now, don't get me wrong, almost every single part of me wanted to obey him, to run and throw myself at him. But a small part of me was saying, "He broke your heart. He left you." So I gathered the little bit of pride I had left, turned on my heel, and walked away.

"Excuse me?" I said to the stewardess, the one who had been flirting with Michael. Michael. Oh sh—

"Yes?"

"Would it be alright if I, you know, switched seats?"

"If you can find one." She smirked at me. I went back to my seat, and grabbed my bags in a huff.

"Mia! Mia please, I'm sorry, I know, I'm a jerk." Michael was pleading with me; his eyes were wide with desperation, and maybe a little longing. I put my finger to his mouth, stopping his ramble of words. Hey…his lips were soft, just like I remembered. He grabbed my hand, massaging it, and lightly pressed his lips to my finger. I pulled away.

"Michael, no. I'm sorry it didn't work out. I really wish it would have, but I can't try right now. You broke my heart." And with that, I walked away.


	2. Here Comes The Lacie

**I have much to apologize for about this chapter. There are many random things I threw in. Like the old steward. (Ohhhh and by the way, I THINK that's what those funny little helper people on the planes who stuff nasty peanuts down your throat are called. And if not, too bad. I am calling them stewards and stewardess-ess) Like, about the whosamathingit with the pilot. I don't really know. And the lame notes. However, I have found that if you point your mouse over the fun clickable purple button and lightly press down with your left finger, you will be rewarded with another chapter that may or may not suck :**

---Michaels POV---

I am an idiot. I really am. Yes, I wanted to kiss her again, but I should not have asked her that, in front of everyone, on the plane, while we happened to be in the middle of a fight. But I couldn't help it, although I shouldn't have even wanted it. She didn't trust me. Why doesn't she trust me? I wondered.

"Why doesn't she trust me?" I asked the guy with the long hair and the 'Got Peace' shirt who was sitting behind me.

"Dude, I don't know, but your like, karma is totally bad. And your aura is off. Not good vibes man, not good." He shook his head sadly. I nodded, not really thanking him.

"Escoose me, mistew." I felt a tug on my shirt. A short steward was standing by my side.

"Mistew, you need to gwet bahck on your seat. The 'seatbewt on' ligwht is still on. And I ahm going to haff to ask you to pwease lower your viof. Some of the oder passengers are complainink." He seemed a little annoyed. I felt the need to laugh, but I didn't really want to be mean.

"Oh, oh yah. Sorry…sorry about that."

"Is okay. But--" He glanced at Mia. "You mahy whant to apowogize to the prehty girl. She is qwuite 'hot', if you know what I am to bhe meanink." I frowned at him. I really want to punch him. Why makes him think he can talk about Mia like that?

"I know." I told him. "Hey, can you get some barbecue chips?" I asked him. I just wanted him gone. Actually, I was pretty sure they didn't have barbecue chips on this plane, but apparently the steward didn't know that. He hurried off. Oh well, at least it would get him out of my face. I didn't talk to anyone for most of the ride, except for the steward who came back and told me they didn't haff bwarbique chips, whould I mind these fihne salt and vinaygah ones?

---Mia's POV---

My head kept bumping against the window, and it was really starting to hurt, but I didn't want to look over at the guy next to me. He kept picking his nose, trying to be discreet, but really failing miserably. Oh, gross, he just dug a huge nugget out of his left nostril. Now he's shaking his head, all content, going "Nice, nice." And now he's…oh my god, he just stuck it under the armrest. The armrest separating our seats. THE ARMREST WE SHARE. This was almost worse than sitting next to Michael. Oops, he juts caught me looking at him. It's SUCH a good thing we should be landing soon. At least, that's what the pilot has been saying for the past hour. Because, not that I'm counting or anything, but we were supposed to land in Aruba 1hour, 18 minutes, and 33—no, 34 seconds ago. Wait—what's this? The stewardess who seems to greatly dislike me (she didn't even offer me the complimentary peanuts when the food cart came around. So I was all like, "Um, excuse me, but don't I get courtesy peanuts on this flight?" and she actually SNEERED—which I have never seen anyone do before—at me, and said, "We're all out. Here." And throws me a dinky little bag of crushed pretzels at me. If I were deathly allergic to peanuts, I could so. And I would, if I thought that stupid blonde, busty, white-toothed, pink-lipped BRAT was a hazard to my health.) Anyways, she hands me this folded little note with my name written on it in black pen, and says it's from the hottie two seats behind me. I'm so sure. A HOTTIE. That's what she called Michael, who was the sender of said note. I opened it, not daring to breathe.

_Mia,_

_I'm really sorry, I never meant to say that. I never meant to leave you. It was just a shock, seeing you after all these years. Please, can't we talk? _

_Love (am I allowed to write that?)_

Michael 

I couldn't help smiling. I uncapped my blue glitter gel pen, and wrote back:

Michael,

Yes, we can talk. I would actually really like that a lot. I'm sorry—I should have listened to you back then, but I was too mad. And it's good to see you too.

Love (duh, you can write that)

Mia

I handed the note to the stewardess.

"Can you give this to the 'hottie'?" I asked her. She just gave me a tight smile and walked away. I couldn't help but grin. All of a sudden, the pilot's crackled voice came through the speakers.

"Uh, this is your pilot speaking. There has been a little 'miscommunication'. Everything is fine, but uh, we need to land on, uh, an island not to far from, uh, Aruba. It may, uh, take us a little, uh, a little while for us to get this sorted out, so uh, passengers are welcome to get off the plane to uh, do a little er, stretching. But please, do not uh, stray to far from the plane. Thank you and, uh, have a nice day."

There was a little click. Obviously the pilot thought no one could hear him anymore because the next thing we heard was:

"John, DAMMNIT, get your ass out here! NO! We have to make these people think…what? Oh. Well, hel-_lo_ there Jenn. Nice little skirt you got on there, but I personally think you would look better without it o—"

One of the attendants leapt towards the door that lead to the pilot's area.

"Uh, sir? Excuse me? Um, sir! Si—SCOTT! SHUT UP! WE CAN STILL HEAR YOU!"

Now THAT was a classic moment.

All of a sudden, the "seatbelt on" light lit up, and we felt the plane start to go down. My ears popped. The next thing I knew, we were back on the ground, and I was getting off the plane.

"Mia! Mia, hey!" I turned and saw Michael making his way over to me. He gave me a small hug, hesitant at first, but I hugged him back and he almost crushed me. God, he smelled so _good._ I pulled away, and was just about to ask him what he was doing on his way to Aruba, when an absolutely GORGEOUS girl with honey blonde hair, humongous boobs, a tight tank top and small skirt and tanned skin started making her way towards us.

"Michael? Michael, is that you? Oh my gawd! I missed you!" she said all in one breath. She ran up to him and flung herself into his arms, planting a huge kiss on his cheek. I felt like I had just been punched in the stomach. Michael looked at me in an apologetic way.

"Mia…meet…meet Lacie."


	3. Goodbye, Plane!

Do not blame me if this sucks. I did this before and after MCAS and I am now a jiggling mess of gerunds and context clues, and therefore incapable of coming up with a good chapter.

---Michaels's POV---

Lacie.

Lacie had to be the biggest mistake I had ever made, besides breaking up with Mia. Sure, she was gorgeous on the outside, but there wasn't much going on the inside. She and I went out for a while, and broke up only a few months ago. At first, she seemed smart and fun. I liked talking to her—we would talk about Star Wars, how Yellowstone might blow someday and end the world, and our thoughts on being a vegetarian. I finally asked her out, and she said yes. But as soon as we became "boyfriend and girlfriend" she changed. Whenever I talked about our usual topics of conversation, she changed the subject to someone named Paris Hilton and how hot her outfit was. She tried to make out with me whenever she could and even tried to go to third base on our second date.

She sucked.

She was all peppy and flirty, and the other guys told me how hot she was, and how lucky I was to be dating her. I couldn't wait to break up with her. But every time I tried, I felt bad, or she would remember she had somewhere to go…anything like that. But when I woke up in the middle of the night and found that she had come into my room, taken off everything north, and was laying on top of me, I just kind of lost it. And broke up with her on the spot.

So what was she doing back? And why was she kissing me like that? Oh no, Mia looks really mad. I pulled Lacie off me.

"Um, Mia, meet my…friend, Lacie" I said, trying to get away with the "friend"

"Oh silly!" Lacie squealed, in my ear, might I add. "We went out for _forever_. We were like this." She held up one hand, her middle and index finger twisted around each other. "But sometimes, when Mikey was horny, we were like this!" Her two fingers were rubbing each other and mashing together. Mia looked sickened. I couldn't say I blamed her.

"Um, Michael, can…will you come over here? I need to talk to you." Mia said. I had a feeling she was purposely leaving Lacie out, which was fine with me. But Lacie didn't take the hint. She was never able to.

"Oooh! Let's go for a walk! It's so nice and sunny out here!" She skipped up to us, and wedged herself in between us.

"Look, Lacie, me and Mia need to discuss some stuff. Could you…?" Although I wanted to tell her to get her stupid fake boobs out of my face, I couldn't be that mean. Yet.

"Oh, I don't mind!" Lacie said happily. "You two just talk. I won't tell anyone." She winked at me. Mia rolled her eyes.

"Lacie! Mia and me need to talk ALONE. In private."

"Well, I don't think anyone will hear you. It's pretty private over here. Speaking of "private", you and I should find someplace private later on. It's been so long since me and you have—"

"LACIE. NOT NOW."

"Later, I know. Somewhere dark and secret." She giggled and winked.

"NOT NOW. NOT EVER." I was practically screaming now. Lacie actually looked hurt.

"Fine. Besides, I'm here with…with someone else." She walked over to a tall, blonde, muscular man. I turned to Mia.

"Sorry. She's a bitch."

"Geez, I'd hate to get in a fight with Sergeant Michael. Where did _that _come from?" Mia asked, amused.

"Look, let's go over there. It's too…public here." I actually just wanted to get her away from everyone else. I wanted it to just be us.

"Michael, we're just talking. Believe it or not, but most people aren't offended by two people talking."

"I know that." But I wanted to do MORE than talk with her. We walked along the water that surrounded the island.

"Look." She turned to face me. "Can't we…I don't know. Start over?" I looked at her in surprise

"I—I mean…I know we can't _completely _forget everything." She said, seeing my startled expression.

"Well, I don't know. I'll have to think about that. Do you really deserve it?" I teased her. She laughed, running ahead along the sand.

"Come on, let's pretend that we've never met before, and we just ran into each other at…Staples." She said, grinning me. I laughed—only Mia would come up with a place as random as Staples. She walked over to a palm tree, pretending to look for something.

"Excuse me, Miss. Can I…help you?"

"Yeah, thanks. You see, I'm looking for Post-Its."

"Uh, ma'am, you happen to be looking at what is, in fact, the Post-It display."

"Yes, but none of these are the right COLOR."

"Color? What color are you looking for in particular?"

" Actually, I wanted a color that would match the tiles in my bathroom."

"I see…and what color would that be?"

"None of these!" Mia started to shake the palm tree.

"Excuse me! Please do not mess with the merchandise!"

"Stupid…Post…Its!"

"MISS! YOU'RE GOING TO RUIN THE DISPLAY! STOP! STOP! SECURITY! CODE 57! IN AISLE 29, BY THE POST-IT DISPLAY!" I was laughing hard now; she was too. She twirled around, dizzy, falling down, bringing me with her. I was in heaven.

I landed on top of her. She giggled, and brushed some hair off of her face.

"Hey…" she whispered. Damn, I looked into her eyes. Big mistake. I found myself lost in her blue eyes. She had flecks of gold around the edges, I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to bring myself to her, I wanted…

I brought my face down towards hers; she looked at me, pleading. We were so close…here it was, I was back with the girl I was in love with, on a gorgeous beach, all alone—

"MICHAEL! MICHAEL!" Someone one was frantically calling my name. I groaned, and buried my head deep in Mia's soft hair. She smelt amazing, like strawberries and chocolate.

"MICHAEL!" My name came louder this time. And it was coming from Lacie. Damn it. I had to get off Mia.

---Mia's POV---

He took his warm body off me. I wanted to cry. But I knew he had wanted it, at least. But, oh my god, he was so soft and hott, and that SLUT had to come along and ruin everything. I made a mental note to put her bra in the freezer, if I ever got the chance. If they even fit. Her boobs were so huge; it looked like she had shoved two baby whales down there. It was childish, I know, but it sounded like fun, and it at least momentarily distracted me from Michael.

"Shhh…" He said, putting his finger to my lips. "Maybe she won't hear us if we're quiet."

"MIKEY! QUICK! THE PLANE IS LEAVING! YOU NEED TO COME BACK!"

"OH SHI—" Michael swore loudly. "Come on, let's go" He grabbed my hand, and pulled me up. We began to run, our feet and our hearts pounding. Lacie saw us running.

"Oh my good god I thought I'd never _see _you again! They better not leave without us! Do you think they'll leave without us? If they leave without us, I'll sue. My daddy's a big time lawyer." She said that last part to me, as though she was trying to outdo me. HA!

"My dad's the prince of Genovia." I said smugly. She just blinked at me.

"God bless you."

"No, Lacie, Genovia's a country over in—never mind, I'll explain it later." Michael said, exasperated. I grinned; liking the way he looked when he was all flustered.

"Uh, if all (crackle) the passengers, uh, have boarded (crackle) the plane, then uh, please get ready for, uh, (crackle) lift off." We could faintly hear the pilot as he got ready to leave the island. Without us.

"Like, oh my gawd! No you so cannot leave without me! Stop! Big flying-thing! Uh, get back here!" Lacie was running after the plane. Michael looked at me, shrugged, and ran after the plane. Could they really not see us here? It wasn't that far now. But I had never noticed how hard it is to run in the sand. Every step sucks you down, and every now and then your very expensive turquoise blue flip-flops that you bought at some tiny little boutique in California starts twisting around, threatening to fall off your feet. Now I know why the people in Baywatch do that long, slow run. Not only do they look ultra-sexy; they aren't falling all over themselves trying to lodge a particular flip-flop out of the wet sand.

"Oh, SHIT!"

**Click the happy button below, pleeeease.**


	4. Cell Phones and Gift Shops

Oh. My. Gosh. I. Am. A. horrible. Person. But my laptop broke down and my story was on it, so I couldn't update…but if you review…my laptop might not break down again (winkwinknudgenudge)

---Michael's POV---

I turned, and saw Mia on the ground, her foot in the sand.

"Mia!" I groaned, running back to help her up. "Haven't you learned to walk _yet?"_

"I know, I'm a klutz. Get me some diapers and a binky, and teach me to walk." She said. I laughed, and reached out to help her up.

"Like oh my god, run, you two! The plane isn't going to see you on the ground, DUH, and, hey! What are you doing!" Lacie looked at us, and I guiltily let go of Mia's hand.

"Lacie's right…we should…"

"Wave?" Mia suggested. Because the plane was flying away, and there was no way that they could see us down on the beach.

"Oh…oh dammnit! Oh my…" Lacie proceeded to let out a long string of words that shouldn't be repeated to anyone between the ages of five to ninety seven, then burst into tears.

"Lacie…oh don't cry, it's okay. C'mon, you have your cell phone, right? We can call someone to come get us—we won't be here for more than a day or two." Mia said, trying to calm down Lacie. Mia! Trying to calm down Lacie! Mia, who, the last time I saw her, had self esteem smaller than a caterpillar's head, who never thought she could say the right thing to anyone, was actually succeeding in making Lacie feel better. I couldn't help it—it made me like her more.

Crap—I had known her again for what? Four hours? And now I was back to liking her? We had to get off this island, fast. Another day or two, and I would probably be head over heels in love with her again.

---Mia's POV---

I had succeeded in calming Lacie down a little, and we were about to call for help when—

"CRAP! No service!" I heard her whine.

"Michael?" I asked, praying that he had his phone. He held it up triumphantly, and I sighed in relief.

"And I have service, too!" While Michael was busy getting extremely proud of himself, a large bird flew at him, squawking insanely. It dodged a palm tree, and headed straight for Michael…and his beloved phone. In a second, the bird had the small piece of technology in its large beak, and when it realized that it wasn't exactly edible, it made an exasperated birdy noise and dropped the phone in the water. Michael gaped at it, and then ran towards the water. He dove in after his cell and started thrashing wildly. I had to laugh; he looked like a physicotic duck. I watched him search for it, and a few minutes he let out a cry and floated to the top of the water.

"Get up, Michael, you're all wet, and in case you haven't noticed, there isn't exactly a shopping mall here to buy you anything new."

"What! Not even a gift shop? This is an island! Islands are like, the top vacation spots for tourists! Every island has a gift shop." Lacie cried, and stormed off in search of a gift shop, leaving Michael and me alone. He sighed, and flopped back on the sand.

"Look, we have to do something."

"Maybe they've realized we're missing, and have turned back around, and soon we'll be sitting in our cushy little seats again enjoying free peanuts."

"Or maybe we're on a deserted island that no one has ever heard of before."

He looked at me, confused.

"But, that would mean—" he shot straight up. He turned to me, and his eyes were wide and full of true terror. "Oh no. OH NO. We can't be on a deserted island, because if we were on a deserted island and they didn't realize that we were missing until who knows when, and when someone tried to come and find us eventually, they wouldn't be able to find us because NO ONE KNOWS WHERE THIS PLACE IS."

"Nice work Sherlock." I smirked, and lay down beside him, and he fell back down, defeated. I looked at him and laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing…it's just, after six years, I see you again on a plane to Aruba. Then we get stuck on an island together. You would have thought that someone was writing a story about us or something." **(A/N: Ha ha.) **

"I know, seriously."

"So…how's life been for you?"

"Pretty good. I was accepted into Harvard, but…ah…I kinda dropped out to work on my music."

"You're still in a band?"

"Yeah, only the one you seem to be a tad _obsessed _with."

"Not obsessed. Not even remotely."

"Uh-huh, sure. ANYWAYS—" he said quickly, seeing my death glare. "What's up with you?"

"Wow, where should I start, besides with a whole lot of nothing?"

"Yeah right. It can't be that bad."

I snorted. "Believe me, it can."

"You have to have a job. A house. Friends you go places with. Stuff you do in your spare time. Favorite foods."

"Journalist. Apartment in LA. I'm still friends with your sister and stay home and complain. I like to play with my cat and go to the beach. Chinese food, still a vegetarian."

"See, your life doesn't suck. A journalist? That's pretty good."

" I guess…it's just that…I don't know, I feel—"

"Like something's missing."

"…yeah. Exactly." I smiled at him, wondering how he knew that. He turned his head sharply to look at me.

"Genovia."

"Huh?"

"Are you still the princess? Or the queen now? Should I be serving you tea with crumpets and calling you 'Your Highness'?"

"First of all, tea with crumpets? Ew. Secondly, I'm still the princess, **(A/N: I think she becomes queen when she's like, twenty-one or something and she's older than that in this story, but I'm hoping we can forget that little bit of info in here. :-) **but they hired someone to take over part of my job. I just couldn't deal with it anymore, so Grandmere sent me off to Aruba."

"Only you didn't quite get there." He laughed.

"Nope, not really. So anyways—"

"NOTHING! Not even a snack shop." Lacie's large chest said as it came towards us.

"Nothing." I repeated, suddenly dazed when I realized exactly what situation we were in.

**Review. Now. **


	5. Lost Forever

**Yes, I know this story doesn't fit in with the books. And I have no clue what color anyone's eyes are.**

---Michael's POV---

An hour after the plane left us, I found Mia sitting on the sand, the contents of her purse dumped out in front of her.

"Whatcha doing?" I asked, sitting beside her.

"Surveying our inventory. I have Band-Aids, Tylenol, a notebook and pen, a pack of pretzels, some fuzz, and three dollars and twenty-six cents. Oh, and Lacie contributed Bubble-Yum, watermelon lip gloss and her driver's license."

"Good. It's nice to know we'll survive with all those necessities. Here." I threw in a tissue and my car keys. Mia nodded.

"Great Michael, we never would have managed without either of _those._" She smirked.

She stared out at the sea, and I looked at her, admiring the way the light of the setting sun danced on her face. She grabbed a handful of sand and sifted it through her fingers. He nails were painted light red. She never wore nail polish in high school; she had always bitten her fingernails too much. How much had she changed, anywise? What did she really do in her free time? What did she think about?

"Earth to Michael." Mia snapped her fingers in front of my face. "We should go find firewood. Or shelter. Or food."

"Mia, we've searched the island over and over. There's nothing here."

"Correction. Lacie's been searching."

"For a life-saving Hollister or Abercrombie."

"At least she's trying." Mia turned and her eyes bored into mine. Was she mad?

"I tried. I climbed six damn trees to try and find coconuts or bananas or…or _something._" I remarked, not letting her win. She gave a sad smile, and glanced at the ground.

"I know…I'm just worried. What if…Michael, what if they don't realize we're missing? What if we get stuck here?"

"Mia," I said, trying to find some way to comfort her. "We're _not_ going to get stuck here. They know they landed on this island, and they know people got off. They're going to check to make sure everyone got back on."

"Which not everyone did."

"Which not everyone did." I smiled reassuringly. "So they're going to turn around and get our butts out of here."

"You're right." She leapt up, and brushed the sand off her legs. "Let's keep looking."

"Yes, ma'am."

---Mia's POV---

Three hours. It took us three hours of wandering around in circles before we found anything remotely helpful. We finally found some kind of berry, and although we weren't exactly sure whether or not it was poisonous, we ate it after seeing it be devoured by a mouse, bird, rabbit, lizard, and other unidentifiable animal, in that order. After eating as much as we could and hid a few for later (upon Lacie's request, because "Oh my god! Think, guys! What if like, all the little animals eat ALL of our food!") we started to look for firewood. We also had to build a fire, upon another of Lacie's requests. The dark gives her bad pores.

God, help us. Now.

"Mia! Get your butt over here and stop staring at me." Michael teased, lugging a particularly large hunk of driftwood over to our tiny pile. I blushed, and tore my eyes away from him, pretending I hadn't been doing what I had—which was gawking at him. I could see the ripple of his muscles under his red shirt, even in the dim light. Sure, he wasn't Mr. America or anything, but he had a _nice_ body. And his eyes were greener **(A/N: Again, no clue whatsoever as to eye colors.) **than the last time I had seen him, and his hair was just a little longer and a little darker. I was surprised that he wasn't married to a Playboy and whisked off to Paris to be a male model who wore nothing but a bowtie—Bad Mia! Bad!

Shaking my head, I shuffled over to him and picked up the other end of the wood. The bark dug into my hands, and I grimaced. Lacey bounced by, holding a handful of twigs and deposited them on top of the pile. I wonder what would happen if I knocked her on the head with a certain piece of wood I just so happened to be holding. Kidding.

Kind of.

Now that we had a sufficient amount of wood for a fire, we only need something only a little crucial—fire, maybe? Michael, having realized this, groaned and let his head hang back.

"Lacie, why don't you look for some big leaves and rocks…you know, shelter-making things." He said, seeing as we still had no place to sleep.

"But…it's dark. What if I get lost!" Lacie whined, and I stifled a laugh. Oh, what if, what if…

"Right…we can't have that happening, I guess." Michael said, rolling his eyes. "Mia, you go with her."

"No!" I cried, then seeing Lacie's shocked expression, I felt bad and tried to correct myself. "I just mean, won't you need help, Michael? You know, rubbing sticks together and all that, for the fire?"

"Go Mia. I'll be fine." He smiled. Oh god, I wanted to slap him. Reluctantly, I turned and gestured for Lacie to follow me.

Ten minutes later, after roaming through thorny plants and listening to Lacie ramble on about Britney Spears, we found something.

It was unbelievable.

---Lacie's POV---

Where did I put my Bubble-Yum!

What…what did she find! Oh no! Review review review to find out! Go, press that button now! Only you can…save…them…


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